


The Rest Of My Life

by reminiscingintherain



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cowell bashing, Heartbreak Weather Fic Fest, I literally have no idea what to tag, M/M, Modest bashing, Nessie - Freeform, Niall's in hospital in one chapter, Snapshots, Song: Black and White (Niall Horan), Syco bashing, Through the Years, cos of his knee, let me know if I'm missing anything, there's angst, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26994001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reminiscingintherain/pseuds/reminiscingintherain
Summary: “M’Niall Breslin. But you can call me Bressie, or Bres if you’d rather.”“I, uh, I’m just Niall,” Niall mumbled. “M’sorry for just dropping in on you like this.”“Ach, but you’re fine,” Bressie waved a hand dismissively. “Da gave me a call and said you were going to be in town. Said Bobby Horan had asked me to keep an eye on ye.”“Ye know me Da?” Niall stared a little.~~~~When Niall Horan turned up on fellow Mullingar ex-pat Niall Breslin's London doorstep, one rainy night, neither of them expected for it to change the course of their lives.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Breslin/Niall Horan, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43
Collections: Heartbreak Weather Fic Fest





	1. 2011

**Author's Note:**

> Phew! It's done!
> 
> Huge shout out to the lovely [Rebecca](https://runaway-train-works.tumblr.com/), the mod for this fest, for being so patient and letting me post this so late in the day!! Also, to you and [Sus](https://luluawrence.tumblr.com/) for helping me brainstorm this.
> 
> Thanks and gratitude to the Panic Room and the Rare Pair GCs - you're all awesome and I'm grateful for you all <3
> 
> _Based on the song Black and White, by Niall Horan._
> 
> Please check out the rest of the awesome fics written for the [Heartbreak Weather Fic Fest](https://heartbreakweatherficfest.tumblr.com)!

“I’ve spoken to Enda and Mandy, Niall’ll be expecting you,” Bobby said as he stowed Niall’s case in the back of the car.

“Who?” Niall asked around his fingers, where he was chewing anxiously on his nails.

“The Breslins,” Bobby said patiently. “Their Niall lives in London. He’ll be expecting to see you in the next few days. I was telling you this morning. Make sure you give him my best.” He sighed softly. “I swear you’ve a brain like a sieve, lad.”

“Of course, Da,” Niall replied, still confused. “I, uh. Where’s he live to?”

Bobby levelled a steady gaze at him.

“In London, lad,” he stated, before he got into the car.

“London’s a bit big, Da,” Niall said, letting out a nervous chuckle as he climbed into the passenger seat. “An address might help a fella out?”

Bobby let out a heavy sigh and started the engine.

“Sure, and I’ll get it sent to you,” he relented, pulling the car away from the driveway. “Enda’ll be round for a gargle this evening.”

“Aye, and I’m sure it’ll just be the one, right Da?” Niall raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Oh, of course, of course,” Bobby agreed absently.

“You’re full of it, Da,” Niall chuckled, gazing out of the window.

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

Niall wasn’t expecting to be the first one at the Princess Park complex, but as he let himself into his brand new flat (and wasn’t that one hell of a mindfuck?) he realised that there were no sounds coming from any of the three other flats. He pulled his phone from his pocket to find texts from the other four lads, all saying that they’d been delayed by family and surprise farewell parties, and that they’d be there the next day.

He let out a heavy sigh and looked around the furnished flat.

“Home sweet fuckin home,” he muttered, before he grabbed his guitar and settled on the sofa.

After an hour or so of playing everything he knew and fiddling around with some stuff he’d been half-writing, one of the strings broke with a loud twang.

“Shit,” Niall cursed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh, fuck me,” he followed it up with a moment later as he remembered clearly that the brand-new packet of strings he’d bought were still sat on his chest of drawers in his bedroom, waiting for him to put them in his bag.

He thought for a moment, and frowned a little, recalling something his Da had said that morning when they were eating breakfast; something about Niall Breslin being into ‘that music thing, like you’. He grabbed his phone with a low groan and pulled up his messages, letting out a sigh of relief as he saw one from Bobby with Niall Breslin’s address. Within a few minutes, he’d ordered an Addison Lee, stowed his guitar in its case, grabbed his keys, phone, and guitar case, and made his way downstairs to wait for the cab.

Niall Breslin (and that was going to get old real fast) wasn’t all that far away as it turned out, but Niall was far from confident in London on his own, so figured it was safer to get the cab the first time. He took a deep breath as he clambered out onto the pavement outside an intimidatingly large block of flats. He crossed to the entry way and dialled the number of Niall B’s flat, and waited patiently, letting out a low groan as it began to rain.

“Hello, who’s there?” a pleasant voice greeted through the speaker.

“Hi and all, it’s Niall, uh, Horan?” Niall attempted. “I’m looking for Niall Breslin. Me Da said he was living here.”

“Aye, and so he is,” came the reply. “How’d your Da get this information?”

“Uh, Enda and Mandy?” Niall half-guessed, hoping he’d gotten the names right.

“Ahh, the parents, I see, I see,” the voice continued. “Well now, I’m sure you’ll be needing to come up, aye?”

“Sure, and if that’s okay,” Niall replied.

“Sixth floor, flat three.”

With that, a short sharp buzz sounded, and the door pulled open easily under Niall’s hand. He took a deep breath and stepped inside, going straight for the elevator and going up to the sixth floor. In the lift, he struggled to brace himself for what was going to happen next.

He stepped off of the elevator on the sixth floor and glanced around the landing for the number demarking the flats, when a door swung open and a hulking great bloke, built like a brick shithouse, appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands in the pockets of his joggers, and an eyebrow raised. Niall couldn’t help but stare for a few moments, then choked a little as it felt like he nearly swallowed his tongue.

“Easy there now, lad,” the tall stranger chuckled, his voice giving away the fact that he was the one who let Niall in. “Breathe slowly, then talk. You must be Niall Horan, so you are.”

“A-aye,” Niall stammered. “That’s me.”

“You’d best be coming in then, hadn’t ye,” came the reply, accompanied by a brilliant smile and a step back, inviting Niall into the flat. “M’Niall Breslin. But you can call me Bressie, or Bres if you’d rather.”

“I, uh, I’m just Niall,” Niall mumbled. “M’sorry for just dropping in on you like this.”

“Ach, but you’re fine,” Bressie waved a hand dismissively. “Da gave me a call and said you were going to be in town. Said Bobby Horan had asked me to keep an eye on ye.”

“Ye know me Da?” Niall stared a little.

“Aye,” Bressie nodded, before he gestured to the sofa. “He came to my football games with Da a lot.” He tilted his head consideringly. “I think it was probably for the drinks, but to be sure that’s why Da was there too, so,” he finished with a shrug. He eyed Niall for a moment. “Can I get ye a drink?”

“Aye, a can would be grand,” Niall immediately nodded. “If you’ve got a spare one going.”

Bressie paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow.

“How old are you, lad?” he asked.

“Nearly eighteen,” Niall bristled slightly. “Why does me age matter? Been drinking the black stuff since I were a wee lad.”

“Aye, I’m sure,” Bressie nodded. “I’ll grab a can. Then you can tell me why you’ve darkened me doorway on a Tuesday night.”

Niall perched on the edge of the sofa, holding his guitar case awkwardly on his lap, as he looked around the room. His eyes widened when he spotted a photograph on the wall, and he jumped up, setting his guitar to one side, before he crossed the room to peer at it. It was of a stage, with Bressie stood in the centre, guitar slung around his neck, and backed by a band of four other blokes. Squinting a little at the drumkit in the background, recognition dawned on Niall and he covered his mouth with a hand.

“Ye okay there, lad?” Bressie asked as he returned, a pint glass of Guinness in one hand that he held out to Niall, and a glass of water in the other.

“You’re in The Blizzards,” Niall blurted out. “You’re fuckin huge!”

“Aye, well, maybe not that huge,” Bressie chuckled. “But we did okay.” He gestured a little with the glass. “Here ye go.”

“B-But,” Niall stammered, taking the glass with slightly shaky hands.

“Don’t be fussing over it, lad,” Bressie insisted, settling himself in a comfy armchair. “Now, have a sup of your drink, and then tell me what you’re doing at an old man’s bachelor pad, when you could be living the high life as a young, free, and single man here in London town.”

Niall let out a loud snort as he returned to his seat on the sofa.

“You’re not an old man,” he rolled his eyes a little as he took a large sip of Guinness. “Mm, but I was hoping to ask ye for a favour.” He leaned forward, setting the glass on the coffee table before he lifted the guitar case onto his lap and flicked open the lid. “I broke a guitar string when I was playing earlier, and I left me spares at home.” He sighed softly as he gazed at the instrument, nestled on the velvet. “I would’ve asked the lads, but none of them are arriving till tomorrow. They’re all at going away parties,” he added, trying but failing to hide the slightly bitter tone in his voice.

“Bobby and Maura not celebrate your departure in quite the same way?” Bressie asked, seeing straight through him.

“That’d be an understatement,” Niall sighed softly. “Da was more interested in meeting Enda for a pint tonight,” he elaborated with a shrug. “It’s whatever.”

“That’s pretty shite, to be honest,” Bressie commented, leaning back and stretching his legs out in front of him. “Are ye sure it’s not bothering you more than you’re saying?”

“Eh, what’s the point in being bothered?” Niall asked, before tipping his glass up, drinking deeply. “Not gonna change anything, is it?”

“Aye, that’s fair. But feelings aren’t fair and logical,” Bressie reasoned. “They pretty much do whatever they want.”

“This is getting incredibly serious for a first meeting,” Niall tried to joke. “I only came here for a guitar string.”

Bressie shifted his weight and leaned forward to place his drink on the coffee table, resting his elbows on his knees as he gazed at Niall.

“Just letting you know that this is a safe space, lad,” he said carefully. “Ye can say whatever you need or want to in here. It won’t go any further.”

Niall eyed him for a brief moment and then nodded slowly.

“That’s good t’ know,” he said quietly. “Cos I know part of the reason why the parents are being weird.”

“What’s that?”

Niall sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“I’m gay,” he said quietly. “And I told them, just after the X Factor Tour finished, because they saw Harry and Louis being all affectionate and shit and made comments about it.”

“So, in order to stop them being unnecessarily rude about your friends, you came out to them?” Bressie raised an eyebrow.

“You could put it that way, I suppose,” he mumbled.

“It’s a brave thing t’do, kid,” Bressie nodded slowly, then cleared his throat quietly. “Braver than me, anyway,” he added softly.

Niall blinked at him.

“What?” he asked, completely mystified.

“My parents don’t know that I’m bisexual, and I’m nearly thirty,” Bressie said carefully. “Never really had the balls to tell them.” He shrugged slightly. “Plus, there’s never been any lad worth telling them about.”

Niall stared for another moment, before he quickly looked at his hands, tightening his grip on his glass. He stayed quiet as his thoughts raced.

“You okay there, lad?” Bressie asked after a while. “Not spooked ye, have I?”

“No,” Niall immediately said. “I just… don’t really know what to say.”

Bressie sighed and stood up, holding a hand out. Niall looked at it uncertainly, then he leaned forward and set his glass on the coffee table, before slowly reaching up to take Bressie’s hand.

“No, ye daft fucker, the guitar,” Bressie said flatly, rolling his eyes. “I’ll change your string.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, of course,” Niall stammered, handing over the guitar. “S-sorry.”

Bressie grunted quietly and slipped out of the room, already fiddling with the guitar strings.

“You feckin idiot, Nialler,” Niall muttered to himself, running his hands through his hair. “He’s never gonna take you seriously now. You’ve gone and fucked that right up.”

“Well, you haven’t, but if you’re gonna be all weird and talk to yourself, then I think we have far more problems than I originally realised,” Bressie interjected, coming back with a pack of guitar strings in hand.

“Oh, fuck me,” Niall sighed.

“You’re a bit on the young side, lad,” Bressie said, eyeing him consideringly. “And you’re not even of age, yet. Ye shouldn’t be thinking like that.”

Niall rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Always comes down to age, doesn’t it?” he said gloomily.

“What’s that now?” Bressie asked, sitting down and pulling a string out of the packet.

“Doesn’t matter,” Niall shrugged, then forced a smile. “Just gonna be better when the lads get here, y’know? When we’re actually doing band stuff and moving on with our careers or whatever.”

“Understandable,” Bressie nodded, his fingers moving knowledgably over the fret of the guitar, easily replacing the broken string. He glanced over at Niall. “Don’t be wishing your life away though, lad. Remember to enjoy yourself. This is an important time in your life.”

“Ye sound like you’re an old man,” Niall commented.

“Well, I am a whole thirteen years older than ye, boyo,” Bressie declared. “That’s a lifetime in some folk.”

“Don’t be soft, man,” Niall scoffed. “Not like you’re rocking the Zimmer frame and dentures, is it?”

“Are ye suggesting somethin’ now, lad?” Bressie raised an eyebrow, pausing in his work on the guitar.

Niall shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly.

“Wouldn’t ever rule it out, let’s put it that way,” he said, shaking his head at Bressie’s scoff.

“Think you need to grow a little more, lad,” Bressie replied after a moment, before continuing to fiddle with the guitar. “Even if I’m not drawing my pension yet, I’m too old for ye.”

“Now you’re definitely talking bollocks,” Niall huffed.

“Aye, and is that right?” Bressie chuckled.

“Aye, it is,” Niall insisted.

Bressie chose not to reply, instead he pulled the guitar into his body and strummed quietly, one hand reaching up to adjust the tension on the strings, tuning it quickly. Niall watched him in silence, awed at the ease and speed at which Bressie worked.

“There ya go, lad,” Bressie eventually said, holding the guitar out. “Was slightly out of tune, but I’ve got ye sorted.”

“How do you even _do_ that?” Niall blurted out. “It normally takes me at least an hour to tune her, and that’s with a tuning gadget!”

“Years of practice, fella,” Bressie said in amusement. “Told ye I had more than a few years on ye.” He shrugged. “That’s what happens with age. Ye learn shit.”

Niall rolled his eyes dramatically.

“No feckin shit,” he muttered, before he sighed heavily. “I guess I should be going, right? Get home and leave the old man to his cocoa and pipe?”

“Cheeky fecker,” Bressie growled. “But aye, you should probably be getting on home.” He eyed Niall for a moment. “But if you’re at a loose end this weekend, let me know. I’ll take you out and introduce you to the London Irish Crew.”

“The rugby lot?” Niall asked in confusion.

“No, you dickhead,” Bressie rolled his eyes. “The Irish folk who are living and working in London. We’ve banded together. Folk call us a crew, but really, we’re just a buncha lost souls who cling to whatever bit of home we can find. Figured it would be something you’d be up for.”

“Sounds perfect,” Niall agreed, before eyeing Bressie with a cheeky smirk. “That mean you’ll be after me number there, Bressie?”

Bressie pointed a finger at him.

“Ye watch yeself, young whippersnapper,” he warned in a teasing tone. “I’m not afraid to whip you over me knee and give you a good spanking if you get out of hand.”

“That a promise?” Niall blinked innocently.

Bressie let out a groan and ran a hand over his face.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you’re gonna be the death of me, lad,” he sighed.


	2. 2012

_“I wanna go on a date with you,” Niall blurted out as soon as he saw Bressie backstage after the gig at the Hammersmith Apollo. “Like, a proper romantic date, with flowers and wine and a meal and all that shit.”_

_“All that shit?” Bressie raised an eyebrow in amusement._

_“Yeah,” Niall grinned. “What do you say?”_

_“I say…” Bressie paused, eyeing Niall’s excited face for a moment. “Ask me when you’re not hyper after just coming off stage. If ye still wanna go when you’re not hyped up on adrenaline, then I’ll think about it.”_

_Niall nodded firmly._

_“I’m not gonna change my mind, Bres,” he swore. “So, you’d best be waiting for it.” He ran his gaze over Bressie, from head to toe and back up again, smirking when he saw the slightly awkward shifting of weight from one side to the other. “It’ll be when tour finishes,” he swore._

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

That had been in the January. But once the Up All Night tour finished, Bressie was wrapped up in The Voice of Ireland, and by the time his commitment to that was done, Niall was in Australia and New Zealand. Then Bressie was caught up in his own promotion cycle for his album – Niall managed to get to the Festival of Fires back in Westmeath, but it was a flying visit due to the promotional schedule for One Direction.

So, it wasn’t until Niall got home from the US leg of the tour in July that their paths managed to cross for longer than twelve hours.

Once he’d dumped his mess of a case off at home, told the other lads he was bored of their faces and was going out, he hopped in a cab that took him straight around to Bressie’s, where he leaned on the buzzer obnoxiously.

“The feck is it?” came the grumpy response.

“It’s Niall,” he replied immediately. “Lemme in before some dick pap finds me here.”

The door promptly unlocked, and Niall pushed his way inside, practically skipping into the lift and bouncing with barely contained excitement as it rose up the floors. Once the doors slid open, revealing Bressie leaning against the frame of his door in much the same way as he had been the first time Niall had visited, Niall beamed brightly.

“Hey there, stranger,” he greeted cheerfully.

“The feck you thinking?” Bressie asked with a soft huff. “You know what time it is?”

“Haven’t looked, to be honest,” Niall shrugged, walking slowly down the hallway.

“It’s not even five in the morning,” Bressie grumped. “I was mid-dream. It got disturbed by an annoying little bleach blond fecker leaning on my damn buzzer.”

Niall burst out into a loud belt of laughter as he reached the door.

“You fucking love it,” he declared, tipping his head back to peer up at Bressie. “And you can’t tell me any different.”

“Did I even try?” Bressie asked, taking a step back so that Niall could pass him. “But I’m a bit curious as to why you’re here, I’ll be honest.”

“Just got back from the US,” Niall shrugged. “Was in Florida, uh… last night?” He looked a little confused as he tried to work out the change in time zones. “Wait, no, well, yeah. We left in the afternoon. Landed a couple hours ago. I literally dropped my shit off, told the lads I’m fed up of their faces, and came here.”

“Charming as ever,” Bressie raised an eyebrow, crossing to the kitchen and flicking the kettle on. “You want a tea?”

“No,” Niall said bluntly. “I want you to agree to go on a date with me.”

“Wait, what?” Bressie looked at him in confusion.

“You told me to ask when I wasn’t high off of stage adrenaline,” Niall continued. “So, this is me asking.”

Bressie blinked slowly, completely dumbfounded.

“I… what?” he repeated slowly.

“Oh jeez,” Niall rolled his eyes. “I know it’s early, but get it together, Breslin.” He stalked over to Bressie and gently prodded at his chest. “You, me, romantic date, together.” He tilted his head slightly to one side. “And if the night ends with us and not a lot of clothes, well, I’m not gonna be complaining about it.”

“You, not complaining? There’s a first,” Bressie blurted out without thinking.

Niall rolled his eyes and shook his head, waiting for what he had actually said to register properly.

“Hang on,” Bressie mumbled, his eyes widening.

“There we go,” Niall nodded. “Think he’s finally getting there.”

“You want… that? With me?”

“Of course I do, you great fuckin eejit,” Niall sighed heavily. “I swear to God, not only are you built like a brick shithouse, but at times it’s like fuckin talking to one.”

“There’s no need for that,” Bressie bristled. “I’m just… I’ll be honest, Niall, I’m more than a little blown away right now.”

“That can happen to, if you’d like,” Niall smirked.

“You’re feckin incorrigible,” Bressie groaned. “What the fuck happened to the shy, stammering lad who knocked on me door last year?”

“Spent far too much time with four other lads who have exactly zero shame about their sex lives with each other,” Niall replied breezily, before he straightened up quickly. “I mean, not _all_ together. Harry and Louis, and Zayn and Liam. No polyamory. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, if it’s something you’re into.” He flushed hard. “It, uh. It’s just… not for me.”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” Bressie muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “And no, I’m not suggesting it. I’m just saying, you’re still a kid. You don’t know shit about what’s for you.”

“Can you stop with that shit?” Niall sighed. “I’m not a kid anymore. There’s like, 12 years between us. That’s nothing.”

“It’s thirteen,” Bressie said flatly, looking at him. “And that’s definitely something.”

“Don’t you get it yet?”

“What’s to get?”

“I don’t care about the age gap, Bres,” Niall said earnestly. “I just wanna take you out for dinner.”

“It’s 5am,” Bressie muttered.

“Not right now, you utter dick,” Niall sighed. “Can you just agree? Please? Then I’ll fuck off and let you sleep some more.”

“Fine, whatever, we’ll go out,” Bressie relented. “I’m free tonight.”

“Awesome, so am I,” Niall immediately agreed. “I’ll pick you up at 7:30. Be ready, and wear something nice.”

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

At twenty-five minutes past seven that evening, Niall was pressing the buzzer again, running a nervous hand through his hair as he shifted his weight awkwardly.

“I’m on my way down,” Bressie’s voice crackled through the intercom, which cut off before Niall could reply.

He took a deep breath and stepped back from the doorway, glancing up and down the street and trying to keep the butterflies in his stomach at bay. A few minutes later, the door opened and he span around to greet his date, but his words died in his throat at the sight of Bressie wearing a smart pair of trousers, a white short-sleeved shirt with a tie, and a waistcoat.

“Uh, is this okay?” Bressie asked uncertainly.

“Fuck,” Niall managed to croak out.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bressie smirked. “C’mon then, lad. Where are ye taking me tonight?”

“We’re, uh, we’re going to dinner,” Niall stammered. “In a restaurant.”

“Sounds nice,” Bressie observed. “How are we getting there?”

“There, uh, there’s a car.”

Bressie raised an eyebrow quizzically and looked around deliberately.

“It’s waiting,” Niall continued, before he scrambled to pull his phone from his pocket and called a number, muttering into it for the driver to fetch them. “It’ll be here in a sec.” He swallowed hard, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “Um. You look amazing.”

“Ahh, there we go,” Bressie nodded slowly. “Finally, a compliment. Thank you, Niall. You look very nice too.”

Niall blushed hard and ducked his head shyly.

“Thanks,” he whispered. “Uh, this is the car.” He gestured quickly at the sleek silver car that pulled up alongside them on the pavement. “Um, let me,” he stepped forward quickly, reaching out to tug at the door, holding it open.

“Thank you,” Bressie said softly, giving him a small smile as he carefully slipped onto the back seat.

Niall let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes and dropping his head back as he took a moment to try and settle his nerves, before he followed Bressie into the car.

“Ye don’t need to be stressed out,” Bressie said gently. “It’s just me, Niall.”

“I know, I know,” Niall said in a rush. “I just…” He ran an anxious hand through his hair. “I have no idea why I’m so nervous.” He pulled a face. “That’s a lie. I want this to go well. I want ye to take me seriously, as an actual date, not as an obligation that ye promised Enda to keep an eye on me. I want there to be a chance for us, and that scares the fuckin’ shit out of me.”

Bressie stayed quiet for a moment, watching Niall as he valiantly tried to calm himself down.

“I completely understand,” he said eventually. “And for the record, you’ve never been an obligation.” He gave a small, almost shy smile of his own. “And I do take ye seriously, lad. I’m glad you didn’t give me much warning of our date, because I’m pretty sure I’d have psyched myself out of it, instead of looking forward to it like I have been.”

Niall stared at him for a moment, before he blushed hard and ducked his head, biting his lip.

“That makes me feel a little better,” he mumbled. “So, thank you.”

Before too long, the car pulled up outside a restaurant, and Niall was quick to jump out, holding first the car door, and then the restaurant door for Bressie.

“I’m not your mam, Niall,” Bressie commented in amusement. “Ye don’t need to keep holding doors for me.”

“I’m trying to be polite,” Niall said pointedly, glaring a little as he stepped over to speak to the maître d’. “Table booked under the name of Horan, thanks.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the maître d’ sniffed after a moment. “There’s no booking under that name.”

“I think ye should probably check again,” Niall said with a slightly forced smile.

“I have checked, _sir_ , and there is no booking under that name,” the maître d’ insisted.

“Feck sake,” Niall huffed under his breath, shooting Bressie an apologetic look as he pulled out his phone to call Elise, his PA. A few moments later, he hung up and rolled his eyes dramatically and leaned over to the maître d’ again. “Can ye please look for a table for two, name of Eagles?”

The maître d’ sniffed sharply and raised his eyes heavenward for a moment, before he glanced down at his list.

“If you’d like to follow me, Mr _Eagles_ ,” he eventually said snootily. “I’ll show you both to your table.”

“That was in no way nerve-wracking at all,” Bressie murmured as they followed the maître d’ through the tables.

“I was literally about to shit meself,” Niall muttered in reply, waiting until they were sat before he continued. “Fucking Elise thought she was helping using a fake name but forgot to fucking tell me.”

“It’s all grand,” Bressie assured him. “We’re here now. And this place looks fucking unbelievable, why in the fuck did you bring me here?” He asked, gazing around at the sumptuous and decadent surroundings.

“It’s a date,” Niall said flatly. “Supposed to be nice. Trying to make a good impression and all that.”

“You’ve already made a good impression on me, lad,” Bressie said carefully. “But I’d have been happy enough in a pub with some nice grub, y’know?”

“Well, I know that for the future,” Niall muttered. “But we’re here now. I’d like us to at least have a drink and something small to eat, if nothing else.”

Bressie nodded and glanced over the menu, his eyes widening slightly in horror.

“Niall?” he said carefully.

“Yeah, Bres?”

“There are no prices in this menu,” he observed, his tone forcibly casual.

“And?”

“Well, generally speaking, if they’re not listed, then it’s fucking expensive, for not a lot of grub,” Bressie explained slowly. “So, you could potentially be dropping the best part of a grand on this.”

“Okay, and?”

Bressie stared at him.

“What do you mean, ‘and’?” he half-spluttered. “This is madness, Niall. This is so over-the-top, and not either of us in any way, shape, or form.” He glanced over at the nearest table to them that had already received their food. “And look at the sizes of the portions. They’re not gonna keep either of us going. We’ll be stopping off at McDonald’s or something on the way home.”

Niall nodded stiffly, his back tense and straight as he fixedly stared at his menu.

“If you’d rather leave, then we can leave,” he said in a strained tone. “I didn’t realise that it was all going to be so difficult and wrong.”

“It’s not wrong, Niall, don’t think that,” Bressie was quick to reassure him. “I just, I think this is a little outside of our combined comfort zone. I thought it was going to be that nice, but reasonably priced place near your apartment complex.”

Niall lifted the menu up a little higher, deliberately hiding behind it as he tried not to feel humiliated and stupid and childish for misjudging this entire thing.

“I see,” he muttered.

“No, clearly you don’t,” Bressie sighed, reaching over and pushing the menu down carefully. “Look, I’m not upset. Or disappointed. This place is amazing, and I’m glad we’re here. I’m just warning ye that I may need extra food when we leave.” He paused for a moment. “And I hope ye won’t judge if I have something that may be relatively lower priced. Because I’m not sure I want to spend so much money in a place where the staff don’t even have any manners.”

Niall frowned and looked around, spotting the maître d’ very blatantly hovering and eavesdropping.

“Excuse me,” Niall said firmly.

“Apologies, sir,” the maître d’ fluttered. “I was just on my way over to inform you that Bethany will no longer be assisting you this evening.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Niall immediately asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” the maître d’ simpered. “It’s just that I personally look after our important guests.”

“Ye didn’t consider me important until someone on your wait staff, probably Bethany, recognised me,” Niall practically growled. “So, thank you, but I’d rather have Bethany as our server, if it’s all the same.”

“I agree,” Bressie added, folding his arms over his chest in an intimidating manner.

The maître d’ gulped visibly, nodded his head in a half-bow, half-bounce gesture, and slipped away quietly, pausing only to murmur something to Bethany.

“Anyway,” Bressie rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I want you to just choose something off the damn menu, Bres,” Niall told him firmly, before he leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m getting a bit of a discount cos Lou’s coming here next week with his ‘girlfriend’ and they’re gonna put it on Twitter.”

“Girlfriend?” Bressie raised an eyebrow.

“Pretend one, keeping him and Haz in the closet,” Niall said flatly. “It’s fuckin horrible. We hate the whole thing.” He shook his head a little, keeping his voice a low mutter. “Apparently having a band made up of five not-straight lads is a complete abomination. Well, they only know about four and management and the label are already pissed off, so I figure I shouldn’t let on to anyone about me.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Niall,” Bressie sighed heavily. “All five of ye?”

“Fairly certain this isn’t what Simon meant when he said he could see something in us at bootcamp, but it’s fuckin hilarious when you think about it,” Niall smirked.

“I guess ye could say that,” Bressie said, sounding doubtful.

“Now pick a fuckin meal off the damn menu,” Niall demanded. “The nerves have backed off and I’m hungry.”

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

“That was a cracking night,” Niall declared as he followed Bressie out of the car and onto the pavement. “Thank you so much for coming with me, Bres.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Bressie replied easily, giving Niall a sideways look.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” Niall smiled. “Only polite, right?”

“Aye, it is that,” Bressie nodded, leading the way over to the front door and pressing his fob to the lock, which clicked open to allow him access.

They were silent in the lift up to Bressie’s floor, occasionally glancing at each other and looking away again with shy smiles. Once the doors opened, Bressie stepped out first, walking down the hallway to his door, where he stopped and turned to look down at Niall.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “Tonight was amazing.”

“It really was,” Niall agreed quietly.

Bressie pulled his keys from his pocket and began to fumble through them to find the right one for his front door. Niall took a deep breath as he grabbed his courage with both hands and stretched up on his tiptoes, pressing his lips firmly to Bressie’s. It was awkward at first, as Bressie jerked in surprise and started to pull away. But he instantly caught onto what was happening and dropped his hands down to Niall’s hips, guiding him back close and kissing him again softly. Niall sighed in contentment, sliding his hands over Bressie’s arms and up around his neck, settling into the kiss easily.

“Mm, that was nice,” Bressie murmured when they both pulled away after a while.

“It really was,” Niall agreed quietly, hiding his face against Bressie’s throat.

“Do you… uh…”

“Ask me,” Niall immediately said. “I’ll say yes. You should know that.”

“You shouldn’t,” Bressie sighed softly, gently stroking his hands up and down Niall’s back. “God, ye definitely shouldn’t. I’m too old for you, Niall.”

“Stop talking shit and just fuckin ask me,” Niall commanded, before pressing a tender kiss to Bressie’s throat, softening his words.

“Do ye wanna come in?” Bressie asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Kinda don’t want tonight to end right now.”

Niall smiled brightly, gently tightening his grip a little on the back of Bressie’s neck before he pulled back to look at him properly.

“I’d love that,” he agreed quietly.

Bressie looked at him quickly, searching his eyes for anything that may suggest that Niall wasn’t serious about this. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find as he relaxed into a tender smile and held out his hand for Niall to take.

“C’mon in, then.”


	3. 2013

_“Bres? It’s Louis.”_

_“Hey, Louis,” Bressie replied easily. “Everything okay? Why are you calling from Niall’s phone?”_

_“There was an incident tonight,” Louis said slowly._

_“An incident?” Bressie sat up quickly. “What sort of incident? Where are you?”_

_“We’re on our way to the hospital,” Louis continued. “Ni’s okay. He just, uh. He dislocated his knee. Onstage. And then promptly passed out. Onstage.”_

_“Fuck,” Bressie scrambled upright, shoving his feet into his trainers. “Where are you again? I’m on my way.”_

_“We’re in Antwerp,” Louis replied, immediately sounding more relieved. “On our way to, uh… Stuivenberg hospital? I’ll text you the address.”_

_“I’m on my way – I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Bressie swore._

_“If you have any problems at the airport, let me know,” Louis said. “I’ll get a chartered flight for you.” He paused for a moment. “I’m gonna stay with him, I swear. But he needs you here.”_

_“Tell him to hold the fuck on and not do anything else stupid,” Bressie said, grabbing his passport out of the drawer and shoving it in the back pocket of his jeans. “And tell the daft sod that I love him, okay?”_

_“Will do, mate,” Louis replied easily. “See you in a bit.”_

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

Less than three hours later, Bressie strode into Niall’s hospital room, his large stature imposing in the small space, but immediately softening as he caught sight of Niall in the bed.

“Fuckin hell, Niall,” he sighed heavily. “Ye scared the fuckin shit out of me.”

“I’m okay,” Niall insisted weakly, sounding completely knackered.

“He’s been saying that for hours,” Louis sighed from the bedside chair. “Dickhead wouldn’t go to sleep once I told him you were on your way.” He stretched as he stood and covered his mouth with a hand as he yawned widely. “But now that you are here, I’m gonna get a cab back to the hotel, crawl into bed next to my boyfriend, and hope he doesn’t decide to wake me up at 5am for a fucking run, of all bloody things.” He leaned over the bed to hug Niall gently. “Look after yourself, Nialler. See you tomorrow, lad.” Louis paused to hold up a fist in greeting to Bressie, who looked rather bemused as he tapped it with his own. “See you later, Bres. Solid of you to come straight over. I like it.”

With that, he was gone, leaving the Irish couple looking at each other in silence.

“Why aren’t ye asleep?” Bressie eventually murmured, crossing to take Louis’ vacant seat.

“What Louis said,” Niall mumbled. “Wanted to wait for you.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Bressie whispered, reaching out a hand and gently stroking Niall’s cheek. “Ye can rest.”

“Can ye get up here with me?” Niall asked, his voice small with nerves and uncertainty.

“Niall…” Bressie looked at the bed doubtfully. “I’m not sure I’ll fit on there with ye.”

“You will,” Niall immediately nodded. “I just need to feel you close. Please?”

Bressie eyed him for a moment, before he rolled his eyes playfully and stood up.

“Wriggle over then,” he sighed. “But if I hurt you, you have to say and I’ll sleep in the chair, okay?”

“They’ve got me on a load of drugs,” Niall shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not gonna feel anything.” He smirked teasingly. “Not pain-wise, anyway.”

“Behave yeself,” Bressie grumbled, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket, before he slowly started to manoeuvre himself up onto the small bed.

A few minutes later, Niall was curled up with his head resting on Bressie’s chest, and his bad leg carefully slung over both of Bressie’s, snoring softly. Bressie gently ran his fingers through Niall’s hair, watching the younger man sleep, and acknowledging to himself that he was tumbling down a very deep, very inevitable hole with this relationship.

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

“Aww, they’re so cute.”

“Haz, shh, you’re gonna wake them up.”

“But Lou, they’re adorable. I hope we look that cute when we’re asleep.”

“You don’t.”

“Excuse you, Malik, we’re the most fucking adorable things to ever exist when we’re asleep.”

“Wrong, Tommo. There’s usually drool. It’s a bit grim.”

“Leemo, do something with your boyfriend. He’s being rude.”

“I’m staying out of this.”

“How about ye all fuckin stay out of it?” Niall suggested with a low groan, curling closer to Bressie as he tugged the blanket up higher. “And stay out of the damn room while you’re at it.”

“I told you, you were being too loud,” Louis huffed. “See, you’ve woken them up.”

“In all fairness, we were sent to wake them up,” Liam pointed out.

“Not the point, Leemo.”

“What the fuck do ye all want?” Niall muttered, still reluctant to come out from under the sanctuary of the blankets.

“Well, we have to get a move on, head for Amsterdam,” Louis explained.

“Management don’t want the fans to worry,” Zayn said flatly. “So, they want you to walk through the airport unassisted.”

“Doctor said he’s to keep weight off of it for at least a week,” Bressie interjected. “So that will definitely not be happening.”

“You wanna try telling them that?” Zayn asked. “Because we already did. With the doctor’s report. They don’t care.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair, a sure sign that he was feeling useless and impotent with the whole situation – a familiar feeling that never got easier.

Bressie frowned hard, gently running his fingers up and down Niall’s back and looking at him worriedly.

“It’ll be fine,” Niall murmured. “The boys will help me as much as possible. I can lean on them and stuff. Then ice, and elevation, and compression, and all that before the next show.” He glanced around. “We’ve got tonight off, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, we have,” Liam immediately nodded. “They wanted you to go out to a club, but we managed to talk them out of that,” he added in a rush as he spotted the dark cloud crossing Bressie’s face again. “Lou’s gone on the whole ‘if you don’t let him rest up a bit now, then he’ll be hospitalised for longer at a more inconvenient time’ spiel. Seems to be almost working, for the most part.”

“How the fuck did ye wind up with such shit for management?” Bressie asked bluntly.

“Simon Cowell,” all five chorused in identical tones of disgust.

“Well, he needs to go fuck an infected glory hole,” Bressie scowled. “Hope his fuckin knob drops off. Gobshite.”

“I like the boyfriend, Ni,” Louis nodded. “He’s definitely got potential.”

“Potential for what?” Niall asked warily.

“Fucking shit up,” Louis beamed. “I think he’d be an excellent addition to the group.”

“I’m not joining your ragtag boyband,” Bressie interjected.

“Not asking you to, lad,” Louis chuckled. “But you sound like you’re up for a bit of ‘let’s piss off the suits’ which we try and do as often as possible.” He shrugged a little. “Will be nice to have a bit of senior authority alongside us.”

“Hey, hey, I don’t have seniority over anything,” Bressie insisted. “As far as anyone outside of this room is concerned, Niall and I are only friends.”

“Wait, you haven’t even told the rest of your London Irish Crew?” Harry asked with a confused frown.

“We thought it’d be better,” Bressie shrugged. “Plausible deniability and all that.”

“Uh huh,” Louis eyed him speculatively, then glanced around at the other boys. “Well, we’re gonna leave you both to get Niall dressed. Haz brought some clean clothes, they’re in the bag there on the chair. We’ll be getting everything signed off so we can get a move on.”

“Thanks, lads,” Niall sighed.

He waited for the door to close behind them, before he slowly sat up, groaning quietly.

“Ye okay there?” Bressie asked worriedly, running a hand lightly over Niall’s back.

“Yeah, yeah,” Niall nodded quickly. “All good here.” He turned slowly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Just trying to convince myself that standing up is an excellent idea, and it’s not going to hurt as much as I think it is.”

“Positive mental attitude, an excellent way to go,” Bressie said encouragingly.

“Yeah, I just don’t know if it’s working exactly,” Niall sighed. He rubbed at his face with both hands. “Okay. I’m doing this.” He braced a hand on the bed, the other grabbing onto the bedside table as he slowly started to place his weight on his feet, trying not to favour the better one. “Oh Jesus,” he mumbled, gritting his teeth as his knee immediately started to burn in pain.

Bressie watched on, biting his lip anxiously as Niall forced himself to straighten up and put all of his weight on both legs equally. With a deep breath, Niall stood up properly and took a determined step towards the bag of clothes. As though in slow motion, Niall’s knee promptly rejected the full weight placed upon it, and buckled under the pressure, sending Niall tumbling down to the floor.

Bressie jumped up quickly and rushed around to Niall’s side, whispering apologies for not having caught him as he helped Niall up and into the chair.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mumbled into Niall’s hair. “I should’ve been here ready.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Niall reassured him, clutching at Bressie’s arms with shaky hands. “It’s my fault. Should’ve known that was going to happen.” He sighed heavily. “I really don’t think I can walk through a whole damn airport.”

“You’re not walking, sweetheart,” Bressie swore. “I don’t give a flying fuck what those asswipes at the label or your management say.” He ran a protective hand over Niall’s back as he knelt in front of him. “I am not gonna let you permanently damage yourself for those ungrateful fuckers.”

“Bres…” Niall murmured.

“I mean it,” Bressie insisted.

“I know you do,” Niall smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him gently. “And it means a whole fucking lot.”

Bressie sighed heavily, resting a hand on the side of Niall’s neck.

“When Louis called me last night, fuck, Ni…” He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Niall’s. “I thought the worst, y’know?”

“M’okay, Bres,” Niall whispered. “No more leaping about with my guitar. Keeping my feet flat on the floor from now on.” He gently nuzzled at Bressie’s nose. “I’m sorry for scaring ye.”

“It’s okay,” Bressie breathed out, staying there for a few more moments. “Okay. Let’s get ye dressed. Don’t wanna be flashing half the hospital that pasty white arse of yours.”

“Excuse you, you love my arse,” Niall shot back.

“Aye, and I do,” Bressie nodded. “But I don’t want you showing it to any and all folk, if that’s okay with you?”

“Eh, probably best not to, now ye mention it,” Niall shrugged a shoulder.

Bressie shook his head in amusement, but carefully helped Niall into his clothes, grateful that Harry had packed a pair of joggers rather than the skin-tight skinny jeans that Niall was so fond of wearing. He raised an eyebrow as he pulled out an oversized hoody out of the bag, looking at Niall accusingly.

“I wondered where this had disappeared to.”

“Eh, you weren’t using it,” Niall replied flippantly.

“Because it disappeared out of my flat, ye little shit,” Bressie retorted.

“It smells like you,” Niall said slowly. “Makes me feel safe when I’m away.”

Bressie immediately softened.

“I’ll make sure you get a regular supply of my hoodies,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Niall’s forehead before he helped him on with the large garment. “Just send them back when they smell like you.”

“Thank you, Bres,” Niall mumbled. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, darling,” Bressie said quietly.


	4. 2015

_“He’s fucking gone, Bres,” Niall muttered into the phone. “No one’s telling us what’s going on. He was sobbing down the fucking phone from the fucking airport. He didn’t fucking want to go. What the fuck do we do?”_

_“The sooner ye get away from that entire shitshow of a management team, and away from the clutches of that fuckface Cowell, the fucking better,” Bressie told him firmly._

_“We’ve got the rest of this year,” Niall sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “But we always thought we’d all see it through together.” He shook his head in confusion. “Guess we never thought they were serious about the threats of sending someone home.”_

_“Isn’t this gonna cost them?” Bressie asked. “I just… I don’t understand why they ever thought this was a good idea.”_

_“That’s what Louis’ currently yelling at them about,” Niall replied. “Haz is just crying. Li’s in the gym, beating seven bells of shit out of the punching bag.” He groaned quietly. “It’s just fucked up, y’know?”_

_“I can see that, love,” Bressie said gently._

_“I’m hoping they’ll agree to letting him come back later on in the tour,” Niall continued. “I think that’s what Louis’ gonna try and barter for. Just… pray for us, please, darling.”_

_“Every single night, sweetheart.”_

_“I love you so much.”_

_“I love you too.”_

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

“So, were you going to tell me?”

Niall dropped his bag on the floor and blinked at Bressie in confusion.

“Tell you what?” he asked, putting his keys in the bowl by the door.

“That you’ve been talking to record labels,” Bressie replied, folding his arms over his chest defensively as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe.

“Well, when there was anything to tell, then yeah,” Niall replied slowly, kneeling carefully to open his bag, beginning to sort out his laundry.

“I think negotiations about contracts count as something, don’t they?” Bressie insisted.

“Not really?” Niall shrugged. “I haven’t made any concrete decisions, and there’s been no actual contracts drawn up.” He stood; his arms full of dirty clothes. “And there’s definitely not been any signatures.”

“You said you were taking a break, Niall,” Bressie continued forcefully.

“No, I said the _band_ are taking a break,” Niall corrected, carefully sidling past him to get to the washing machine. “I never actually mentioned what I was planning on doing with my time.”

“I’d have thought after over five years of near-constant touring and working and barely having a second of peace to shit in, ye’d be happy to just fuckin sit for a bit,” Bressie practically growled.

“Well, ye fuckin thought wrong, didn’t ye?” Niall retorted, shoving his clothes into the machine and slamming the door closed. “Ye knew what ye were getting into with me, Bressie. This is my whole fuckin life. Music. Writing. Playing. Touring. I’ve been doing this for the past five years, yes. But that’s when I grew the fuck up. This is all I’ve ever fuckin known.”

“So now ye can take the time to develop some more,” Bressie insisted. “Take some time. Relax a little. Learn to breathe. Learn to sleep a whole fuckin night the whole way through without being woken for an interview or studio time or some other inane reason.”

“Are you saying my work is inane?” Niall asked, his voice deadly quiet.

“I never fuckin said that,” Bressie immediately went on the defensive. “You’re just twisting my fuckin words now.”

“No, no,” Niall shook his head. “You’re the one who just fuckin leapt at me as soon as I walked in the damn door.” He scoffed quietly. “Y’know, I actually thought ‘oh, that’s good, it’s nearly Bres’ birthday, so I’ll cook him a nice meal, pour us a few drinks, then maybe he’d like his birthday present early.’ But judging from your current behaviour, a nice night in after I’ve been on tour for fuckin months is far from high on your list of priorities tonight.”

“I don’t want a fuckin present!” Bressie exploded. “I just want my fuckin boyfriend in my fuckin life, not halfway around the fuckin world on a stage for 95% of the fuckin year!”

“Fuck sake, Niall!” Niall spat out, the use of his first name causing Bressie to take a step back in surprise. “If ye wanted white fuckin picket fences, and lounging around in fuckin hammocks on Sunday afternoons, ye chose the wrong bloke, mark me fuckin words.” He shook his head. “I’m not that person, Bres. I don’t know how to be that person.”

“Are ye saying that’s it?” Bressie asked, his voice dull.

“I don’t know,” Niall replied quietly, looking at the floor. “Maybe… maybe we should take a breather. See if we still feel the same way in a few months or something.”

“Niall…”

“Yeah, let me finish up the tour, finish out the rest of the One Direction commitments,” Niall continued. “We’ll talk at Christmas.”

“Christmas?” Bressie choked. “That’s two fuckin months, Niall.”

“I think that should give us enough time, Bres.”

“Enough time for what?”

“Time to decide if we definitely want to be together.”


	5. 2017

_‘… why’s it only you I’m thinking of? … my heart is hoping, you’ll walk right in tonight… if I’m being honest I ain’t over you yet… don’t it feel fucked up we’re not in love…?’_

_‘… in the dark, we’re barely hangin’ on… then I think of the start, and it echoes a spark… there’s a light in the dark, just a flicker of hope that you first gave to me… I’m afraid that what we had is gone… please don’t leave…’_

_‘I’ve got a young heart, and it’s wild and free, I don’t know where it starts, but it ends with you and me… all I’m asking for, a bit of patience, please… time has never been on our side, so would you wait for me? I live a selfish life, cause that’s what I need… I’ve always known from the start, that it ends with you and me…’_

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

**Unknown number:** _is it about me?_

Niall frowned at his phone in confusion.

**Niall:** _who is this? And what?_

**Unknown number:** _it’s me, and the album._

**Niall:** _I don’t have this number stored. No idea who you are. Or if the album’s about you._

**Unknown number:** _Bressie. Thought Laura was giving you my new number._

Niall bit his lip hard. Fuck. He knew exactly where Bressie’s new number was. On the coaster that Laura had scrawled it on, less than three weeks before, that Niall had shoved in the drawer of his bedside table and refused to acknowledge ever since. He sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his face.

**Niall:** _Oh, sorry. Yeah, she passed it on. Must’ve put it in my phone wrong._

**Bres:** _You’re avoiding the question, Niall._

**Niall:** _What question?_

Niall groaned at himself and slapped his hand against his forehead.

“What a dickhead, Horan,” he muttered.

**Bres:** _Is the fucking album about me?_

Niall stared at the question on his phone for a few moments, trying to talk himself out of what he was about to do. But ultimately, if he was being honest with himself, this had been the exact reason for that entire album. But did he have the balls to admit that?

He took a deep breath.

**Niall:** _Wanna come over? Think we should talk._

**Bres:** _I’ll be there in thirty._

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

The doorbell rang far too soon for Niall’s liking. Casting a final glance around the living room, which had been hastily tidied as soon as he’d received the text from Bressie, he made his way over to answer the buzzing.

“Hello?” he said into the phone, looking at the monitor on the wall and feeling his heart skip a beat when he saw Bressie’s familiar face there.

“It’s me,” Bressie said, leaning towards the microphone. “Can I come up?”

“Sure,” Niall breathed slowly, pressing the door release button. “Penthouse.”

Bressie nodded once and pushed the door open, slipping inside and out of sight of the doorbell camera. Niall rubbed a hand over his face, psyching himself up for what was about to happen – seeing the man who, he could now admit to himself, was the love of his life, for the first time in almost exactly two years.

All too soon, there was a gentle tap at the door, and Niall pulled it open quickly. He stared at the man standing there, looking no different than the last time he’d seen him. A few extra tattoos, maybe. A little more slender. But the eyes were the same, full of life and love and sparkle. The mouth, just as kissable, just as soft.

“Bres,” he breathed out slowly.

“Hey there, Niall,” came the gentle reply.

“I missed you,” Niall blurted out. “I missed you a lot.”

Bressie smiled softly.

“I missed you too,” he said softly. “It’s good to see ye.” He gestured a little. “Can I come in?”

“Fuck, yes, of course,” Niall jumped backwards, feeling like he was that awkward 17-year-old all over again. “Uh, did ye want a drink?”

“Just some water, please,” Bressie nodded. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course, of course,” Niall nodded quickly. “Go on through, take a seat, make yourself at home. I’ll be right there.”

Niall slipped into the kitchen and ran a hand through his hair.

“Get it the fuck together, Horan,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s just Bres, for fuck sake.”

He rolled his eyes at himself as he noticed the slight tremor in his hands when he was getting a tall glass of water, bringing it with him into the lounge, where he stopped dead at the sight in front of him. Bressie was over by the upright piano that Niall had invested in when he’d gotten this place and examining the photographs that were lined up along the top. Photos of him with the lads – both the band and his mates – photos of his family… and at least three of him and Bressie, in far happier times.

“Ye keep these up?” Bressie asked gently, when he noticed Niall’s presence. “The ones of us, I mean.”

“Y-yeah,” Niall stammered out nervously. “Course.”

“Not really a ‘course’ about it, Ni,” Bressie said carefully. “We kinda imploded, come the end.”

“We were in a bad place,” Niall replied, his voice quiet. “Think we had our heads in different places than our relationship.”

“I agree,” Bressie nodded, before he took a deep breath. “Ye wanna know what my biggest problem was back then?” he asked, smiling as Niall nodded in surprise. “I was worried that as soon as I turned 35, you’d realise that ye were making a mistake being with me, and ye’d go find someone younger.” He shook his head a little, following Niall to sit on one of the sofas. “Instead, I just yelled at ye about your career choices and made ye leave that way.”

“I was going to propose,” Niall blurted out.

“What?” Bressie stared at him.

“The meal I was gonna cook for ye,” Niall elaborated. “Your birthday present. I was gonna propose to ye. That’s why I was so pissed at ye for starting an argument.”

“Oh, fuck me,” Bressie groaned, burying his face in his hands. “No wonder ye never wanted anything to do with me for all this time. I royally fucked that up, didn’t I?”

“I think it had been brewing,” Niall said diplomatically. “It wouldn’t have kicked off if there hadn’t been any basis for it at all.”

“Oh, I know,” Bressie sighed. “Doesn’t mean I can’t kick me own arse about it.”

“Yes, it is,” Niall suddenly said.

“What is?” Bressie frowned at the non-sequitur.

“The album, it’s about you,” Niall continued. “Fuck, of course it’s about you, Bres.”

“Niall…”

“No, don’t say anything,” Niall interjected. “Let me get this out, while I have the courage to actually fuckin do it.” He jumped to his feet and started to pace to and fro. “I never stopped loving you, Bres. I’ve been planning my whole life around eventually getting my shit together and coming to find ye. When I went to Thailand, way back after the start of the band’s break, the lads I went with were getting right pissed with me for being so fuckin miserable all the fuckin time. I’m sure Eoghan told ye I was a wet blanket.”

“He mentioned it, a time or two,” Bressie acknowledged.

“It was just the thought of never seeing ye again, never being near ye,” Niall shook his head slowly. “Scared the shite out of me, to be honest. But back then, even thinking about coming over, knocking on your door, triggered ridiculous panic attacks. Eoghan and Deo wouldn’t let me talk about it – they said I’d be better off looking after meself and getting me head on straight first.” He shrugged a shoulder. “So, I wrote. I threw everything I was feeling into it.”

“It’s a beautiful album, Niall,” Bressie said carefully. “Ye should be very proud of yeself. Because I’m dead proud of ye.”

“Thank you,” Niall smiled softly.

“And, if the lyrics on this album are still true,” – “Oh, every last one,” Niall interjected – “then I think maybe we should be having a different conversation,” Bressie continued. “Maybe even think about the future a little more.”

“That sounds perfect,” Niall said softly.

“We’ll both have changed, in those two years. We won’t be the same people anymore.”

“I know that,” Niall nodded. “I’ve grown up a lot.”

“You’re not blond anymore,” Bressie observed.

“Nope,” Niall agreed. “But my hair definitely feels better for it. It’s softer.”

“Ye seem a little, uh, bigger… as well.”

Niall blushed hard.

“Been doing a lot of training,” he mumbled. “If I’m gonna tour on me own, then I need to be able to hold a whole show without the help of four other idiots, aren’t I?”

“Aye,” Bressie nodded. “But I have every faith that you’re going to do it. And you’re gonna smash it, sweetheart.”


	6. Epilogue

_February 2020_

“Tell me you’re ready, Horan!” Louis practically yelled down the corridor, ignoring Harry’s chastisement about the volume. “Everyone’s waiting, and you’re being a wanker cos you’re late!”

“It’s my wedding and I’ll be late if I want to,” Niall half-sung, striding out of his room.

“No, you won’t, cos else Bres’ll string us up for it,” Louis glared. “He reminded me not-so-subtly earlier that I’m responsible for getting you to the damn altar on time.”

“There’s not an altar,” Niall shrugged. “And I’m on my way.”

“You are incredibly calm, Niall,” Harry observed.

Niall looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What, exactly, should I be worried about?” he asked flatly.

“Nothing at all, Nialler,” Liam declared, elbowing Harry and glaring a little, before he let out a quiet ‘ow!’ when Louis’ hand darted out to twist his nipple through his shirt.

“Aren’t we a bit old for that, Lou?” Zayn asked, shaking his head slowly.

“Shut your face, Malik,” Louis poked his tongue out playfully.

“I swear to god, ye lot will never grow up,” Niall sighed. “Not even on me wedding day.”

“Sorry, sorry, we’ll behave,” Harry quickly said. “Are we heading in now?”

“Aye,” Niall nodded. “I’m not really sure why ye’ve all come to get me.”

“Your husband-to-be said we were supposed to,” Zayn commented. “Said we were going to accompany down the aisle to him. Your mum and dad are already sat.”

Niall rolled his eyes.

“Of course they are,” he muttered.

“C’mon, lad,” Louis said softly. “We’re gonna look after you. And who better to give you away than your brethren?”

All four men stared at him.

“Never call us that again,” Zayn said flatly. “It’s weird.”

“Pfft,” Louis flapped a hand. “Let’s just get you wed, Nialler. Before Bres comes out here and flings you over his shoulder like a caveman.”

“He’s nothing like that,” Niall sighed, having had the same argument with Louis many times over the years. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before. You really need to get over your issues with his height.”

“I don’t have any issues with his height at all,” Louis immediately replied as they approached the door to the ceremony room, all stopping outside. “He’s a tall bloke. It suits him.” He paused for a moment. “I mean, you look a bit odd together sometimes, it has to be said. But it’s kinda cute.”

“Louis, you can’t tell someone that they look odd with their partner,” Harry chastised quietly. “It’s not very nice.”

“Haz, take your husband and go sit down,” Niall told him. “Liam, take yours and do the same.” He held up a hand as Liam and Louis started to protest. “I can walk myself down the aisle. I’m a grown-ass man. So, thank you for the offer of your help, but I respectfully decline. Now feck off and leave me be.”

His bandmates chuckled at his words and pulled him into a tight group hug, before they did as he instructed and headed for their seats. Niall took a deep breath, carefully straightening his black jacket and tie one last time, running a hand gently over his hair, and then he slowly pushed the door open.

Up at the front of the room, flanked by Enda and Mandy, and wearing the brilliant white tuxedo that he’d set his heart on, stood Bressie, shifting his weight nervously as he talked quietly with the officiant. Niall smiled softly as he watched for a moment, before he cleared his throat, catching the attention of the wedding planner who was standing off to one side, waiting to cue the music.

He gave them a small nod and slipped inside properly as the soft piano music began, causing everyone in the congregation to stand and turn to watch as Niall slowly walked down the aisle, his eyes focused solely on his groom.

Bressie beamed as soon as he saw Niall, happiness radiating out of him like a beacon. Niall grinned at the other man, immediately taking Bressie’s hands once he was close enough.

The day seemed to pass in a blur, full of love and laughter and embarrassing jokes courtesy of best men, bandmates, and friends.

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

_2045_

“Twenty-five years, Niall,” Bressie said softly. “We’ve been married for twenty-five years.”

“Aye, congratulations darling, ye’ve learned to count,” Niall replied absently, flicking through the notebook in his hands, occasionally scribbling notes for lyrics down.

“Don’t be a feckin shite,” Bressie sighed, reaching out with a foot to nudge at Niall’s thigh. “I’m trying to be all romantic.”

“Oh, sorry,” Niall deliberately put his pen into his notebook and leaned forward to put it on the coffee table, before turning to face his husband. “Ye have my full attention, darling. Twenty-five years. Romance. Let’s do it.”

“You’re a shite, you know that?” Bressie muttered.

“Ye mentioned it once or twice, aye,” Niall nodded seriously. “But I’m not getting the romance from these comments, I’ll be honest with ye.”

“Did ye ever think we’d be here?” Bressie asked. “With a couple of kids and all?”

Niall smiled softly at the mention of their 22-year-old daughter, Aisling, and their 19-year-old son, Cillian.

“Oh, Bres,” he murmured, leaning over and resting a hand on his husband’s thigh. “I always knew.”

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

_“I promise that I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”_

**Author's Note:**

> [ [Rebloggable tumblr post](https://reminiscingintherain.tumblr.com/post/631893331726745600/the-rest-of-my-life-by-reminiscingintherain-m) ]


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